What Not To Wear
by Marginal Benefits
Summary: Don't sign papers without reading the fine print. Snape learns his lesson the hard way and winds up on a fashion tv show called "What Not To Wear" with his former student, Harry Potter, as the host. AU Slash Snarry  COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Don't sign papers without reading the fine print. Snape learns his lesson the hard way and winds up on "What Not To Wear" with his former student, Harry Potter, as the host.

Warning: AU, non-magic, and slash

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the books or the movie. If I did, I would have created "Harry Potter Origins: Severus Snape" and somehow incorporated Wolverine into the plotline which would turn into a bestseller and box office hit! I also do not own TLC's "What Not To Wear."

A/N: This is my first fanfiction ever, so I'm very anxious to hear how you guys like it! There might be some OOCness, but some of that just comes from the fact that this is set in a modern day, non-magic world.

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><p>Severus Snape was not an expert assassin by any means, but he was pretty confident that he could find <em>some <em>way to kill Albus Dumbledore without being tried for murder. For example, he could slip some poison into Dumbledore's confounded candies. Then he'd fake a doctor's report of diabetes and blame the old man's death on high blood sugar. It wouldn't be that hard for people to believe. Hogwarts University's dean was infamous for his addiction to sweets, and he was bound to face the consequences one day. Unfortunately, he was too preoccupied with his murder plans to hear the creak of the bathroom door.

"Snape," a voice called out, causing Severus to inch further into the bathroom stall. "We need you on stage now."

Snape silently snorted at the ridiculous demand. He'd had Hermione Granger sitting in his classroom long enough to recognize the know-it-all's whiny voice, and if she thought she could convince him to go back there, she was sorely mistaken. If he wanted to spend the rest of the day in the men's room, by Merlin, he would.

"You were supposed to be back an hour ago," Granger continued, the annoying clicks of her heels warning Snape that she was only getting closer.

A sigh was released that Snape mistakenly interpreted as an admittance to defeat. Instead, Hermione was getting geared up to release the real guns. "I don't suppose that I need to remind you that you made a deal with Dumbledore about this," she sang in a disgustingly sweet tone. She knew she had Snape now.

The deal Granger was rubbing in his face happened to involve a way for Snape to legally be released from his twenty-year contract with Hogwarts University as their renowned chemistry professor in exchange for participating in one of his student's "project" for a few days. At the time, Dumbledore's proposal had seemed quite reasonable. Snape absolutely detested supervising chemistry labs and watching indolent urchins mess up simple procedures. He abhorred correcting their lab reports, half of them practically unintelligible, and grading their exams was as painful as plucking out his own eyeballs. When the opportunity presented itself for him to escape that hellhole and start anew, he was more than eager. Regretfully, his excitement blinded him from seeing the twinkle in his boss's eyes as he signed the new contract. Had he been aware of what he was getting into, Snape would have gladly continued to teach those final eight years. Instead, he was left in this current mess wondering what his life would have been like if he'd just chosen to be a doctor like his mom had wanted.

Resigned to his fate, Snape unlocked the stall's door and revealed himself to his tormentor. He glared at the curly haired girl standing by the sinks wearing her tacky headset. "I don't suppose that I need to remind _you_ that a proper young lady is not to be found hovering in a men's restroom," he said icily as he glided past her and out of the door. "I do hope that this isn't a habit of yours."

Shocked at her ex-professor's implications, Hermione Granger quickly jumped to explain herself. "N-no, you've got it wrong! You see Ron refused to help me look for you so…" Her sentence dwindled off as she realized that Snape wasn't paying her an ounce of attention. "Besides, shouldn't you be the one feeling embarrassed for hiding in a bathroom?"

At this, Snape halted, swiveled around, and raised an eyebrow. "I do not hide in or from anything, Miss Granger, though I do suggest you hide your questionable washroom trysts from your boyfriend if you insist on continuing that relationship," he replied. With that cleared up, he whirled back around and continued down the hallway.

Shaking her head, Hermione tried her best to calm down and not throw out an ugly retort. It would only make the rest of the day much, much harder.

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"It is good to have you back here with us," Albus Dumbledore greeted pleasantly when he saw his coworker sulk back into the room.

"I want out," Snape growled as he marched up to the man perched on one of the director's chair.

Dumbledore pulled a face. "Now, you know I can't do that, Severus. If we break the contract, you'll have a ten million dollar fine on your hands. We've discussed this before," he replied.

"I don't care. I want out," Snape repeated firmly.

As he looked onto the set, Severus was more confident than ever that going bankrupt would be a welcomed alternative to whatever faced him here. The area he stood in was innocuous enough. The only furniture included three tall chairs made out of black wood with a large strip of red cloth to support the back. Dumbledore seemed comfortable enough in them. It was where the cold cement converted to plush, tan carpet that Severus became worried. On that end of the room stood several mirrors, a fake window, a vase of silk flowers, a hideous couch, and a rack of clothes that he would bet his life had been stolen from of his very own closet. Granted, this shouldn't have come as much of a surprise after the unexpected news he'd received that very morning, a mere twenty-four hours after he signed the too-good-to-be-true agreement.

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_That morning…_

"Albus, I wasn't expecting you," Snape mumbled as he cut on the Bunsen burner. He was faced away from the door but knew that no one else would have the audacity to enter his private office without knocking.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting," Dumbledore said.

Severus rolled his eyes as he lifted up a test tube, carefully examining the contents. "What is it this time," he asked, knowing that Albus rarely popped in for a friendly visit. The senile old man clearly wanted something. "If you're here to talk about Longbottom again, it's too late. I've already dropped him from my class, and I refuse to reconsider."

Longbottom had been one of many nuisances he'd had to deal with over the years. The fool had failed each and every one of his labs, completely destroying his chances of passing the course. Being the considerate man that he was, Snape decided to end the poor boy's pain and drop him from the class. It was a purely selfless action (never mind the fact that Longbottom's absence would mean no more annoying emails or office hour visits).

"No, dear boy. I trust you made the right decision there. In fact, I heard Mr. Longbottom is interested in becoming a herbalist and will be switching his major soon."

Snape snorted. After many failed attempts at killing humans with his many chemical explosions, it appeared as if the boy had decided to try his hand at killing plants. How lovely.

"What are you working on," Dumbledore questioned after a few moments of silence passed.

"A cure to cancer," he replied.

Out of nowhere, Severus heard a chuckle, one that definitely didn't belong to him or Dumbledore. And that was when the disaster began.

"There is no doubt that everyone loves Professor Snape's wicked sense of humor, but what they don't love is his sense of style," a voice spoke from behind him.

As he turned to look at his newest intruder, Snape was confronted with an entire camera crew and one Harry Potter. Harry Potter had taken Snape's introductory chemistry class his freshman year and was a less than stellar student. His list of priorities, as far as Snape could determine, consisted of acting stupid, partying, hanging out with Hermionie Granger and Ron Weasley, thinking stupid, baseball, breathing stupid, messing up elementary labs, eating stupid, writing lab reports in unknown languages, walking stupid, failing chemistry exams, and ruining Snape's life. Snape couldn't quite figure out the correct order, but he was pretty sure that ruining Snape's life could be found at the top of the list. I mean, why else would the boy sign up for three more years of Snape's section of chemistry? Nonetheless, every student and faculty member adored the brat, fawning over him like he was some kind of savior. Consequentially, Snape made a point of not coddling him or giving him any sort of special treatment. The boy certainly didn't deserve it. Sure, Snape couldn't deny that the brunette was handsome, especially after he ditched his atrocious eyeglasses sophomore year, but did looks matter that much in today's society?

"His black pants, black shirt, and black jacket are all pretty dull," Potter continued, making his way towards Snape.

"You little –"

"That's why we are here to help! I'm Harry Potter, and I want to welcome you to 'What Not To Wear!'"

And that was when Severus Snape dropped and broke a test tube for the first time in his life. A slimy, green substance slid off his worktable and onto his black (yes, black) boots, but he couldn't be minded.

"What did you just say," he whispered, narrowing his eyes at his former student.

"That's right, Professor. Your friends and family have contacted us because they care for you. They think you're an outstanding science teacher who definitely needs to be taught a lesson on how to dress. In fact, we've been secretly filming you for the past week to monitor your daily outfits, and all we've been seeing is black, black, black! Right here I have a $5,000 Visa gift card for you to use on your new wardrobe." Out of his jean pockets, Potter pulled out the gift card and waved in front of Snape's face. "All you have to do is follow our fashion advice and rules, and then you get to shop. So do you accept our terms?"

"Now listen here, Potter! I don't know what your playing at, but I refuse to partake in this –"

"Project," Dumbledore filled in, patting Snape jovially on the shoulder.

Had Snape been carrying another test tube, it would have fallen at that precise moment. "This can't be the project you were talking about, Albus," he cried.

"It will be fun," the dean reassured the professor. "Harry has so many lovely ideas!"

Snape just couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So what? Potter walks into your office one day and tells you that he's been dying to see what I look like in pink and you gave him the okay? What a wonderful little project! Now, do tell, whose idea was it to trap me in a contract? I must congratulate him!"

"Now, Severus, we had no intentions of trapping or tricking you. You always talk about how you hate your job. I was only trying to help you find a way out of it. You even get new clothes out of the deal!"

Snape sneered. "The magnitude of the lies you tell yourself truly astonishes me, Albus."

"Who in Merlin's name would put you in pink," Harry asked, playfully gagging to emphasis his disgust at that thought.

Ignoring the boy, Snape decided to just focus on Dumbledore. "I refuse," he stated simply.

"You'll have to pay a penalty for going back against your word," Dumbledore informed him solemnly.

"I'll pay every cent."

"Surely you don't have ten million dollars saved up, Severus."

"Ten million?"

Dumbledore nodded his head, a pained look on his face. "It was in the contract, dear boy. I thought you'd read it."

Snape's entire body literally shook in frustration. "Well excuse me if a professor in the middle of correcting midterm exams didn't read every single line of a forty page document!"

"Perhaps you could get away with a salmon colored belt, but that would be pushing it," Potter mused aloud.

"How did a half-wit like that even end up with a job with TLC in the first place," Snape snarled, no longer able to ignore Potter's persistent mumbling.

"Didn't you know? Potter majored in fashion design at our art school and interned with TLC two summers ago. They loved him so much that they offered him this job once he graduated. They'd been searching for someone to replace the old hosts, and Harry arrived at just the right time. I was quite delighted when I found out! He's quite the star, you know! It was all over the school's newspaper."

"I highly doubt he reads the _Quibbler_, sir," Harry said.

"Art school? Then why was he taking chemistry classes?"

"You'll have to ask the boy himself, I presume. He is in the room."

Potter started to open his mouth, but Snape raised his hand before a word came out. "I would rather not know on second thought. Let's just get on with this. I want it over as soon as possible."

Dumbledore smiled at him, proud that Severus wasn't going to try to wheedle his way out of things. "That's my boy!"

"I hate you," Snape grumbled.

"Alright," Harry chirped, earning him a strange look from Snape before the older man realized that Harry had faced the cameras again. "Now that you've agreed, we'll be heading over to our special dressing room to examine your clothes. You'll also get to meet our director, Miss Hermione Granger, and my assistant, Ron Weasley, who have wonderful tips for you! And…cut!"

Harry walked over to one of the cameraman wearing a pained expression. "Sorry, Creevey. It looks like you're going to have a lot of editing to do."

While Potter and Creevey led the way to their van and to the "special dressing room," Severus devised a plan. He would say he needed to use the restroom, call for a taxi, go home, pack his bags, and head to Canada. Little did he know that he'd be foiled by a dead cellphone battery and relentless Hermione Granger.

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><p>AN: Thanks so much for reading this, guys! I'd really love to hear what you guys honestly thought of the first chapter, so please review!

Hugs for everyone,

Marginal Benefits 3


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Don't sign papers without reading the fine print. Snape learns his lesson the hard way and winds up on "What Not To Wear" with his former student, Harry Potter, as the host.

Warning: AU, non-magic, and slash

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the books or the movie. If I did, I'd use the money to go to Paris and buy a thousand pairs of shoes. I do not own "What Not To Wear," either.

A/N: I want to thank those of you who read the first chapter! I especially want to thank **XxHarry-DracoxX, babygirl121896**, and **The Coy Koi** for reviewing! Your reviews put huge smiles on my face and encouraged me to keep writing! :D

I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

~Marginal Benefits

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><p>As Severus Snape stood by one of the room's mirrors, he decided that he no longer wanted to commit murder. Instead, he'd commit suicide. Why the drastic change? Two words: Minerva McGongall. His older coworker looked like the ideal grandmother figure, but her students would tell you that behind that façade laid a woman with a strong personality, a desire for discipline, and a peculiar bond with her cats. She was the head of the arts school and led several courses on how to take ordinary objects and paint them into something extraordinary. Many loved her, and for the most part Snape had nothing against her. In fact, they shared lunch together from time to time with their mutual friend, Albus Dumbledore. Unfortunately, their relationship would never build into anything close to friendship because McGongall had already completely betrayed his trust.<p>

"Here we have a rack with some of your clothing, and your colleague, Minerva, has graciously agreed to help us go through it," Potter informed Severus and his tv audience. He was standing in the center of the room with his body turned so that he could get a good look at his two guests sitting on the sofa and his assistant who was wheeling in a metal rack filled with dark clothing. Ron chose the first item for discussion and held it up for the group to see.

"Oh! I recognize that one," McGongall chimed in. "Severus always wears that black turtle neck shirt on the first day of class."

Potter nodded his head sagely as if the shirt had revealed all the secrets of the world. "You see how high that neck is and how long the sleeves are? This is like a physical barrier, blocking him away from all his onlookers. Imagine what the poor freshmen must think when they walk in and see such dismal colors and such a closed off attitude. They must be frightened," Harry surmised.

"Then my goals were achieved," Snape muttered, crossing his arms as he continued to watch the spectacle with a detached air. Dumbledore had threatened him after the first shooting to behave himself. Apparently, Snape was wasting precious film and was risking Potter's new job, so now he had resigned himself to just pretending as if this was all some huge joke, an early April Fool's prank.

"Would you look at these black slacks," Ron said, gesturing towards a pair of pants. "They look like they could fit a sumo wrestler."

"In that case, I might as well give them to you. The way I've seen you eat, you'll be needing them soon," Snape grumbled from the sidelines.

"I do believe you're right, Mr. Weasley," McGongall said. You see? She was nothing but a traitor. "It absolutely hangs off him. He's such a skinny young man, you know."

"Young man," Ron repeated, snorting quietly. Snape glared.

"Do we have any shoes to look at," Potter questioned, joining Snape to glare at his friend.

Surprisingly, Ron had the sense to look ashamed of himself. He promptly snatched a pair of boots from floor and presented them Harry. "These seem to be the only ones," he said.

Potter looked down at the boots Snape was currently wearing and then over to the ones in his friend's hands. They were completely identical. "Do you mind explaining why you bought two of the same pair of shoes," Potter asked.

Snape shrugged. "I bought one pair first and then realized that they were tolerable enough. Comfortable, black shoes are hard difficult to find, so I went back to the store the next day and bought a second pair. Once I've worn these out, I'll switch into those."

"That seems reasonable enough, but I really do think you need some more variety. What would you wear if you had to attend some fancy event like your school's Yule ball?"

Blinking his eyes, Snape wore a blank expression. Wasn't the answer obvious? "I'd wear my boots."

Potter sweat dropped and then shook his head vigorously. "Okay well then what would you wear if you were going on a date?"

Snape released a humorless bark of laughter. "I don't go out on dates, Potter."

"Well, let's just say that I asked you out date…hypothetically. What kind of shoes would you wear?"

What was Potter talking about? Was the boy smoking something in between their breaks? If so, he wanted to be the first person to sign Potter up to be on "Intervention." It would only be fair; Snape deserved some kind of revenge. "I highly doubt it takes much to impress a brat like you," Snape snapped, trying to pretend as if the question hadn't thrown him off as much as it did.

Potter winked. "Don't forget that I'm a fashion major, Professor. I do have standards."

Yep, Snape was now thoroughly convinced that the boy was under the influence of some kind of drug. How else could he explain Potter's teasing? "You should be ashamed of yourself for coming to work high, even I expected better from you. But it does explain a few things. I suspect you've been coming to my class high every semester, haven't you? I always said that no child could be _that _slow."

Shocked, Potter immediately looked over at his crew who was giving him questioning looks. "I am not and never have used drugs," he protested firmly. "Why would you say that?"

Snape sighed. "How else am I supposed to explain your behavior?"

Potter moved his gaze to the ground and balled his hands into tight fists. He seemed as if he was struggling to decide whether he should say something or not, but he was saved by Granger who was frantically signaling for Ron to step in. Snape smirked. This must not have been going the way that Ms. Perfect had planned.

"Umm, yeah, well…" Ron started articulately.

"Don't bully Harry," McGongall chided. Ron looked relieved at being interrupted. "He's just trying to point out the blatant fact that you aren't prepared to have any type of social life. You spend all your time down in your office working and wearing your same old black ensemble. It's past time that you get out and actually do something exciting."

"But you're going to need our help first," Ron added. He looked so proud of himself for finally contributing and shot a look over to Hermione for reassurance.

Was Potter sharing his stash with Weasley?

"I most certainly do not," Snape said.

"Why do you think you're on this show then," Ron shot back.

As much as Snape wanted to wrap his hands around Ron's neck and throttle him, he noticed Dumbledore's slight frown and decided against it. It was enough dealing with Potter, Weasley, Granger, and McGongall. He really didn't want to add an angry Dumbledore to the mix, so he simply gritted his teeth and refused to open his mouth.

After realizing that Snape had no intentions of giving an answer, Potter decided to jump in and move on to the next stage. "Okay, Snape. What we need you to do now is pick three outfits that show us who you are," Potter instructed. "Once you're finished, you can meet us over by the 360 which is through there." He pointed to a doorway on the wall behind Snape.

Snape narrowed his eyes and stared straight ahead until he heard Potter sigh and the rest of them bustle off set.

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><p>Twenty minutes had passed since Potter and crew had left, and Snape was now standing in the "360" which turned out to be a small, four wall enclosure with full-length mirrors on each wall. Almost immediately, Snape despised the contraption, and yet he was forced to wait there until they came back.<p>

Just as Snape's hands started to twitch with the urge to smash each and every mirror, Potter opened the door and stepped in, forcing Snape to make room for him. He twisted his face in displeasure at being so close to his former student whose shoulders brushed against his every time either one of the moved.

"Potter," he snapped. "Would you stop that squirming? Either stay put or get out!"

With a smirk, Potter finally stopped bumbling about and settled into his own side of the room. "Sorry, Professor," he apologized.

Snape merely rolled his eyes. Not even a half hour and Potter had already gotten his hands on more drugs. "Let's just get on with it," Snape mumbled.

Potter shrugged, bumping Snape once again. "Alright, well we have cameras on the other side of the mirror taping us. While they can see us, we can't see them. It's weird, but you'll get used to it. Right now, I'm going to go over your outfit and tell you what things I like and what things I don't." Snape snorted. As if he honestly cared what Potter thought! "It works best if you're facing one mirror and I stand behind you."

Begrudgingly, Snape turned around. He felt more than uncomfortable having his back turned to Potter and kept a trained eye on Potter's reflection, watching his every move.

"Why don't you explain what you are wearing why you chose this outfit to the audience?"

Snape frowned. It seemed so idiotic to talk to a mirror, like something only narcissistic or brain-dead people like Potter would do. Still, he had no choice in the matter. "I'm wearing a black t-shirt, black pants, and black boots. They're comfortable, and they are durable."

This time Potter frowned. "Comfortable and durable? Snape, look at this shirt! It has absolutely no shape whatsoever. You need something that actually lets people know that you have a body underneath there." Stepping forward, Potter grabbed two sides of his shirt and pulled them back until the material stretched across his chest. "You're making yourself look unnecessarily large."

Snape swatted at his hands until he let go.

"And why would you want a shirt that long? If you were to buy shorter ones, you look taller and leaner." Potter reached for the bottom of his shirt and yanked his shirt up until two inches more would have revealed his pale stomach.

"Do you mind," Snape snarled, batting away Potter's hands once again.

"Do you feel handsome in this," Potter asked.

"I don't care about feeling handsome, Potter," he spat. "I'm more concerned about writing my next exams and buying new fire extinguishers after _certain_ students set their experiments on fire." He threw a meaningful look at Potter's reflection.

"Those are just excuses. You can look hot and be prepared for class at the same time. Besides, you're single, talented, and in shape. All you need is to be in style."

"All you need is manners, common sense, and let's not forget rehab," he retorted.

Potter sighed. "We should move on."

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><p>Though Snape was grateful to be away from that wretched 360 room, he wasn't exactly happy to be in this new room. Weasley had rejoined them and was now fiddling around with three dressed mannequins that were lined up in the center of the room. Each one was clothed in different outfits, and Snape shuddered as he looked at them. He did not like where this was headed.<p>

"Are we all set now Creevey," Potter called out.

"Ready when you are," he answered, placing a protective arm over his cherished camera.

Snape smirked, refusing to feel guilty. So what if his cup of boiling hot coffee had spilled all over the man's equipment? Everyone has accidents. Besides, Creevey had had a backup, anyway. Needless to say, Dumbledore and Potter were not pleased and threatened to permanently ban him from the refreshment table. He was also told that he'd never be allowed to have a break again.

"Let's start off with casual wear," Potter began, walking up to the first mannequin. "Believe it or not, there are ways for you to be comfortable and fashionable at the same time. You can officially ditch those black tees, and go for something different. We didn't want to push you so far, so we just chose a classier, grey one. You'll notice that this one is the proper size. On top, we have a brown leather jacket. When you have it zipped up, it will hug your sides perfectly. For pants, we have stuck to a dark pair, but you'll notice that these jeans are fitted and not loose. You can even add in sunshades if you wanted. For shoes, we have ox blood colored Rockport boots." Once he was finished presenting the outfit, he turned to look at Snape.

There was a moment of silence as everyone waited for his response.

"Do you honestly expect me to wear that," Snape asked, not sure if he should be humored or horrified.

Potter looked affronted. "Yes, I do. Why wouldn't you," questioned, placing his hands on his hips.

"Because it looks ridiculous," Snape replied waspishly. "I can tell from just looking at it that that jacket would suffocate me. And those boots wouldn't last a day."

"We got your measurements from Dumbledore, Snape. That jacket would fit perfectly," Potter retorted.

"And those boots are made out of good quality leather. You should be able to wear them for at least three years," Ron added.

Snape shook his head. "None of those clothes would look good on me," he protested.

"I'd beg to differ. This outfit is dark and very masculine. Just give it a try, okay? I promise that it will look perfect on you," Potter said.

"Right…because we all know that promises from drug addicts are legitimate," Snape said under his breath.

"Well, let's look at your formal clothes now," Potter suggested.

"Harry will meet you back in the 360," Ron said, already making his way towards the room's exit.

Back to the 360? "I fear that nobody will be waiting for him if he does," he said.

"What," Ron asked, dropping his head back with a groan. "Can you just cooperate, Snape? You're not the only one who wants this to be over with." He was shortly the recipient of glares coming from his two best friends.

"I have learned that even hidden cameras won't deter the boy from molesting me. Out here in the open with his friends, he seems to behave more appropriately," he explained. "Therefore, I absolutely refuse to go in there."

Snape nearly laughed at people's reactions. Ron's eyes had expanded to the size of plates. Hermione started hollering, "Tell me you didn't, Harry." Creevey reached for his phone and looked around once before punching in three numbers. Dumbledore pulled out a piece of candy from one of his numerous jacket pockets, completely undisturbed. But it was Potter's response that drew Snape's attention. Spots of pink were blooming on his cheeks, and his two fists dug deep into his wild set of hair. Snape rather thought that he looked like a mad man… or a man suffering through the beginning stages of withdrawal.

"I did not molest him," Harry screamed. " I was simply pulling down his shirt!" Most of them looked visible relieved except Creevey who was frantically trying to end his phone call.

Granger cast Potter a sympathetic look, easily sensing her friend's ire. "Don't worry, Harry. We all believe you," she said. She looked around and met everyone's eyes until they nodded their head in agreement.

Potter briefly glared at Snape who returned the gesture. If Potter was going to make his life a living hell, Snape wasn't going to make it any easier for him. It was rather peculiar how easily Granger and Weasley bought his story, though.

"Fine. We'll skip over the two other 360 scenes and keep going with the mannequins," Potter declared. He let out a long breath, took a moment to compose himself, and then continued to Not Going To Happen #2. "As I'm sure you already know, men wear suits to formal events. That's why we picked out this simple three-button wool suit. It's black, sharp, and perfectly tailored. This is something you can wear to out to fancy restaurants and special work conferences. To complement the suit, we have simple, black lace-up shoes for you to wear. They would need to be polished every now and again, but other than that they are pretty low maintenance."

"I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that, Potter," Snape said.

Potter paused for a second then decided to ignore him and move on to Not Going To Happen #3. "This one happens to be my favorite outfit. You start off with a basic business shirt and then layer it with this awesome grey, hooded military jacket. It looks kind of like a suit jacket, yet it also has a casual look because of the hood on the back. When you button it up, you will be nice and warm on those cool fall evenings. We paired it with matching grey slacks and a stylish watch. The shoes are up to you. You could wear it with the Rockport boots but in granite, or the lace-ups. That's one of the things that makes this look fantastic. It's so versatile, and we kept it grey so that you wouldn't object to the colors. This is easily something you could wear."

Snape shook his head. "I guarantee you that you will never see me in anything like that."

"Well, you're going to have to wear something."

Was the boy daft? "Obviously, Potter! I'll be wearing my black shirt and pants."

From beside Snape, Ron sniggered. "I don't think so," he sang.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the snickering fool. "And why not?"

"Because we're going back to your closet to go through it next, and once we're through, I'm not sure if you'll have a single thing left," Ron answered.

Snape whipped around to look at Dumbledore who was trying his best to look surprised.

Traitors. They were all traitors.

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><p>AN: I hope you liked this chapter! As always, your reviews would be much appreciated! I'm also looking for ideas on what clothes Snape would look good in, so if you have any suggestions please tell me or send me a link to a cool outfit you've seen online. The outfits I used in this chapter actually come from real stores. You can check out what they look like by going to my profile page and clicking on the links.

Have a great weekend,

Marginal Benefits


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: Don't sign papers without reading the fine print. Snape learns his lesson the hard way and winds up on "What Not To Wear" with his former student, Harry Potter, as the host.

Warning: AU, non-magic, and slash

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the books or the movie. If I did, I'd give some of my earnings to all of my lovely reviewers! ;) I do not own "What Not To Wear," either.

A/N: I'm so happy that more of you guys are reading my story! In particular, I'd like to thank **The Coy Koi**, **H0licist**, **DancingInSunlight **(I love your username!), **bookwormqueen7**, and **arte0135 **for your much-appreciated reviews!

In regards to this chapter, you'll notice that the end has a more serious tone to it than the other chapters, but don't worry! I promise that it is still good and that I'll return to funny stuff in the next chapter.

Also, for those of you who aren't that familiar with "What Not To Wear," the show sends their guests to New York City or the next closest big fashion city to do their shopping which lasts for 2 days. For the first day, the guest shops on his own and spends the night at a hotel. The next day, the hosts join them to lend a helping hand.

Enjoy!

~Marginal Benefits

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><p>Snape found that there were a lot of things that he hated in this new room. He hated Potter who was whispering something to Weasley, another person he hated, while they waited for Creevey to give them the okay. He hated Granger who was the one holding things up and making this torture last that much longer. He hated Dumbledore for being too wrapped up in his candies to acknowledge his glares. And his hatred even extended towards inanimate objects like the bloody metal bin beside Potter. Unfortunately, his feelings didn't matter, and he was going to have to deal with all of it anyways.<p>

Granger finally finished her rant and gave a stiff nod to Creevey who then signaled to Potter to start. Snape just rolled his eyes.

"Alright, Professor. It's time for us to make some room for your new clothes," Potter began, walking over to his rack of clothes. The one thing in the room that Snape didn't hate, and what were they going to do with it? Get rid of it.

There is no justice in this world.

"Do you really need all of these black shirts," Weasley questioned, lifting up three or four shirts to emphasize his point.

Snape narrowed his eyes. This show was getting annoying _and _repetitive. "I'm used to having more than I need. For example, you and Potter were two idiots too many in my classes, but you never heard me complain about it," he said.

"Hey! I never wanted to be in that stupid class in the first place," Weasley protested, moving forward to confront Snape only to be stopped by Potter's outstretched arm.

"I think you can manage without all this black," Potter said, trying to get them back on track. "Ron, toss them in."

With a rather disturbing smile and a great show of eagerness, Weasley followed Potter's instructions and threw his shirts in the trash bin while Snape gritted his teeth.

"Professors don't live off of high incomes, Potter. I paid good money for those shirts," he said.

"Well, we're giving you good money to get better ones," he replied. "Besides, your students are paying good money to go to Hogwarts. Don't they deserve to see their professor put at least a little effort in to their wardrobe?"

"Using that logic, it would be expected that students would put a little effort into their classes, yet you put in absolutely none. So excuse me if a disagree with your absurd reasoning."

Potter's right eye started to twitch as he reigned in any sour comeback. "Let's look at your pants," he suggested once he'd calmed down.

Weasley was more than happy to grab Snape's khakis and jeans and throw them away.

"His wardrobe is fatally boring," Weasley complained as he reached down to grab one of Snape's boots.

"Don't you dare touch those boots, you fool," Snape snarled, pushing Weasley aside and picking them up himself. "These will not be thrown away. Is that clear?"

Recovering from his stumble, Weasley straightened up and shared a look with Potter. They seemed to be communicating something to each other nonverbally, but Snape could care less what they had to say. He'd seen the shoes that Dumber and Even Dumber Than That had picked out for him to wear. If he had to follow by their standards for shoes, he'd be spending the rest of his life barefoot. Therefore he absolutely refused to hand over his boots. Unconsciously, he hugged them closer to his chest.

Weasley eyed him warily and then leaned in to talk to Potter. "Bloody hell, mate. I need a break _now_," he mumbled urgently.

"Alright, Snape. We've given you all the tips you need, and now it is time for you to show us all that you have learned. So let's see if you can pass this exam," Potter said and then had the nerve to wink at him.

For once, Snape actually agreed with Weasley. He needed a break at this very instant or else he feared that he'd finally take care of all his hated things…in an undoubtedly illegal fashion…that would land him in jail. And every second he wasted standing in that room, jail became more and more appealing. Thankfully, Granger yelled out "Cut!"

In the end, it seemed as if somebody had sensed his killer intent because he was later informed that he'd be taking a two-hour flight to London that afternoon. He'd have to do some shopping later on, but the brats would have gone for the first day. It wasn't the ideal tradeoff (which would have involved their deaths), but it wasn't a bad one either.

* * *

><p>As Snape entered the third store for the day, he had officially decided to add Creevey to list of hated things. The annoying cameraman had been following him around all day long, which made the whole shopping trip even more frustrating than he'd anticipateded.<p>

So far he'd purchased three black tops and a pair of black slacks just to piss Potter off. His mission was to only buy the darkest and plainest clothes he saw – none of that leather jacket and suit nonsense that Potter had shown him earlier. He'd also been told to try on a few articles of clothing and let the camera see, but that wasn't going to happen either. Knowing that he was purposely sabotaging Potter's plans and possibly getting him fired was the only bit of joy he'd squeeze out of this dreadful experience. For his defense, he would occasionally pick up a shirt that he thought Potter might approve of and then make excuses for why it wasn't acceptable. Hopefully, he would sound believable, and Dumbledore wouldn't fault him for his failed shopping mission.

"This looks like the grey shirt Dumber – I mean Potter – picked out for me to wear on one of the mannequins, " Snape commented, lifting the shirt up and making a show of examining it. "I just don't think this fits me. I'm not even sure if this is what they wanted me to look for. It's all so confusing."

His face distorted as he realized that he sounded completely fake, and he prayed that his boss wouldn't get suspicious. He really needed to brush up on his acting skills, but he didn't have the time to worry about such things at the moment. Instead, he searched for two more regular, dark t-shirts and headed off to the cash register.

* * *

><p>After Snape had spent the required number of hours shopping, he'd nearly run to the hotel. Unfortunately, the hotel proved to be something far from the sanctuary he'd hoped for. Though they had booked him a very expensive hotel room, Snape knew that he could not spend another moment in that room with all those preposterous shopping bags suffocating him. True, he only had four of them, but they were all so big and printed in migraine-inducing colors. Why would anyone make that bright of a shade of green? Why?<p>

Anyhow, he had decided to spend the rest of the night downstairs at the hotel's bar. He had been driven to the shopping center immediately after stepping off the plane and felt that he deserved a glass or two of Fire Whiskey, his drink of choice.

The bar was located to the left of the elevators, past the main lobby, and through a set of double doors. Like his bedroom, the bar was posh and had this not been an all expense paid trip, Snape wouldn't have even been able to pay for a cup of ice. There were several round, wooden tables, and when Snape walked past them he could see his own reflection. The seats around the tables had plump, velvet cushions and were illuminated by the golden chandelier shining from the center of the room. The bar itself was made out of grey marble that was cool to the touch, and behind the counter hung a tasteful display of liquor bottles. In short, Snape was in heaven.

It seemed odd to him that he'd been granted this pleasure while he was in the middle of taping an episode of What The Hell, or whatever Potter called it. Nonetheless, he refused to let this good moment go to waste and took a seat at the counter. Almost immediately, a handsome bartender walked over and took his order.

While he waited for the angel-in-disguise to return with his drink, he closed his eyes and let himself be sucked into the ambiance. People were conversing beside him and actually sharing intelligent conversations rather than the mindless dribble he often heard at the Three Broomsticks, a pub he frequented often back home. It was all so refreshing. It was all so perfect. And then Potter had to walk in and ruin it.

"It's a surprise to see you here, Snape," an irritating voice said.

Sighing, Snape slowly opened his eyes and glanced over at the boy occupying the barstool beside him. "The devil is a cruel creature," he muttered before picking up the glass that was suddenly before him. "He created this huge illusion for me so that I actually believed that I had made it past the Golden Gates, and then he sends one of his demons out to spoil it all. He plays dirty, I tell you. But then it was all too good to be true wasn't it, Potter?"

Obviously confused, Potter scrunched up his nose. "You aren't calling me a demon, are you," he asked.

Snape chugged the rest of his Fire Whiskey and slammed the glass on the counter. "No, Potter. Of course not," he replied sarcastically. "So what exactly are you doing here?"

"I'm staying at this hotel, too."

The bartender placed a second glass in front of Snape, and he glared at the fake angel for taking part in this trickery. "I thought you, Granger, Weasley, and Dumbledore would be flying down tomorrow." Snape explicitly remembered being told that he'd be given a whole day by himself (aside from the camera crew, of course) to spend alone meaning that Potter was _not _supposed to be here.

"Well, yeah, that's what was the plan." Potter shifted uncomfortably in his seat and then scratched the back of his head. Snape was glad that he was uncomfortable and that the boy had lost the confident, self-righteous attitude he'd displayed during the 360 Molestation Mishap, but that didn't change the fact that he still despised Potter squirming.

"Stop fidgeting for Merlin's sake," he snapped. Merlin! Did the boy have ADD? He was constantly moving around and thrashing about as if his life would end if he ever actually sat still.

"Sorry," he apologized yet continued to twist and turn. "I, umm, thought you might want to have somebody be here with you since I figured that you've never been to London before."

"Because Merlin forbid I spend a whole twenty-four hours without your supervision," Snape said with a roll of his eyes.

Potter seemed to deflate a bit and started to sulk like a little child. "Look, I just wanted to talk to you for a bit without Hermione and the others."

"What idiotic thing could you possibly have to tell me now, Potter?"

"I guess I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you agreed to come on the show."

Did weed mess with people's memories? "In case you've forgotten, it was either this or a ten million dollar fine. I wouldn't exactly call it a voluntary agreement."

Potter shook his head and stared down at his lap. "Nevertheless, it still means a lot to me. Sure, you're unbelievably frustrating at times, but I don't regret doing this show at all. You see, one of the reasons why I barely passed your classes is because I spent most of your lectures sketching out outfits for you."

That had to be the strangest thing Snape had heard in his entire life, and that was saying a lot considering that he spent the majority of his day with some rather strange college students. "And here I was thinking you almost failed because you didn't have any skills in scientific fields and were a genuine blockhead. Thanks for clearing that up. Now I know that you're actually a talentless and feebleminded stalker whose favorite pastime involves consuming inordinate amounts of drugs."

Snape saw the boy wince, but he proceeded as if he hadn't heard a word Snape had said. "I always thought it was a shame that you wore clothes that didn't fit your body or your personality. There was just so much to you that you were keeping hidden, and I wanted to be the one to help you show it to the world. When I got hired for the show, I immediately thought of asking you to join and asked Dumbledore for advice."

Potter was visibly getting excited as he relived these memories, and Snape couldn't help but feel disgusted as he listened. The boy was practically gloating about how he had caused Snape's suffering.

"He told me he'd take care of everything, and it was like my dreams were coming true. I would have a job and get you some better clothes. It was perfect," Potter exclaimed.

Snape glared. "If you want to have your dreams come true, buy yourself a ticket to Disney Land and leave me out of it," he snapped.

Again Potter shook his head. "You don't understand, Professor. I signed up for more of your classes just so that I could spend more time with you and draw more clothes for you. Having you come onto 'What Not to Wear' was…" Unable to find a proper adjective in his admittedly limited vocabulary, Potter dwindled off.

"Actually, Potter, I think I understand perfectly. I'm just some check mark to you. What? You want me to be excited for you? Fine. Yay! You've managed to hide your creepy classroom activities for four years. Yay! You've graduated. Yay! You've gotten a job. Yay! You've roped me into this ridiculous show." He slammed his glass loudly on the counter and snarled at his former student. "Am I supposed to feel flattered? Frankly, I'm more disturbed than anything else. Besides, we both know that once this show is over, you'll just toss me aside and move onto the next thing that grabs your attention."

Snape moved to make his exit, but he happened to turn his head and catch Potter's eye. Despite his efforts to resist, he was drawn into those bright, green eyes that blazoned with a look of determination.

"Never," was the only word the boy spoke before Potter turned his head to stare at the wall and released Snape from his tight hold.

And Snape stumbled his way back to his room, gratefully welcoming the sight of his gaudy shopping bags.

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><p>Well I'm positively dying to hear what you guys think about this chapter, so please review review review.<p>

As you might have already guessed, Harry's "Never" line was inspired by "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two" where Snape actually said that to Dumbledore.

I believe that Snape will be getting a hair cut in the next chapter, so stay tuned for that. It's going to be quite interesting…


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: Don't sign papers without reading the fine print. Snape learns his lesson the hard way and winds up on "What Not To Wear" with his former student, Harry Potter, as the host.

Warning: AU, non-magic, and slash

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the books or the movie. If I did, I would use the money to buy a tropical island for **The Coy Koi**, a mansion for **XxHarry-DracoxX**, a sun for **DancingInSunlight**, and a Rolls Royce for **Alysisaacs17**, a huge candy store for **Thesistersblack4998, **and apencil case for **ScaryPencils **(jk, does an ice cream store sound better?).

A/N: Thank you guys so much for continuing to read my story! It means so much to me.

I know that I talked about Harry getting his hair cut in the author's note in chapter three, but I couldn't fit it in this chapter. :( It's coming soon, though. Thanks for all those who have been supporting me and "What Not to Wear." Please enjoy this chapter!

-Marginal Benefits

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><p>Severus Snape was going to press charges. Though he may not be familiar with laws in London, he was pretty sure that kidnapping was universally frowned upon. And he would make sure that the culprits (Dumbledore, Granger, and Weasley) would spend a good amount of time in jail for their crime.<p>

Snape had been sitting innocently in a cafe two blocks away from the hotel, sipping on a mug of black coffee, when he had been bombarded. Dumbledore had come up from behind him and grabbed him while Granger was complacing the questioning customers and waiters with blatant lies. It irked him to no end that Albus was able to actually grab him. True, Snape had been hung over and focusing on erasing memories of last night with Potter out of his mind. But Dumbledore was at least twenty years older than him and probably weighed twenty pounds less! There was no way that he should have been able to pull him all the way to the door. And yet, that's exactly what happened.

Once they had reached their so-called getaway car, it was revealed that Weasley was assigned the position of driver. This strenuous job involved locking all the doors the moment Snape was shoved in and driving like a maniac to some store called Diesel. It was a shocker to them all that no policemen had pulled them over, which made Snape slightly worry over his future lawsuit. If they wouldn't charge a man for swerving into oncoming traffic (twice), what hopes did he have for getting them to condemn kidnappers?

Nevertheless, they were alive when they reached the store that was strangely desolate, aside from Creevey, Potter, and two employees. Weasley walked straight up to his male friend and patted him on the back.

"I told you he'd come," Weasley boasted.

Potter moved his head so that he could get a better at Snape and then frowned when he noticed the older man's scowl. "I don't even know want to do know what you guys did to get him here," Potter mumbled.

Weasley scratched the back of his head and shuffled around. "Well it wasn't easy, mate, I'll tell you that much," he admitted. "Just try not to get him upset again. Hermione might make _me_ do the actual kidna- I mean…"

While Potter's frown deepened, Granger wheeled in two racks of clothes from some backroom. "We only have the shop closed for two hours, guys, so you need to start shooting soon," Granger said, stopping the racks to the left of Potter and his assistant.

Creevey was moving around behind Snape, trying to find the perfect angle, and Snape decided that now would be a good time to step in. "As much as it disheartens me to say this, I have to tell you that we will not be shooting anything today," he announced.

Placing her hands on her hips, Granger gave him a look. "And why not," she questioned.

"Are you sick," Potter questioned before his eyes widened. "Merlin, Ron! Did you guys beat him up to get him here?"

"We would never," Granger protests, shocked by the mere suggestion.

"Now he's going to really hate me," Potter whined.

"Look, I didn't even touch him," Weasley said.

"What is that supposed to mean," Potter asked.

"We told you to stay behind with us, Harry. You're the one who decided to fly down early and talk to him. You're the one who got drunk and got him angry. You're the one who called us for help," Granger said. "So don't blame us for this."

Well, there went Mission Act Like Last Night Didn't Happen. Merlin! Did Potter tell his friends _everything_?

"That's right," Weasley added. "Besides, it was Hermione's plan in the first place."

And then they went at it, the trio defending and attacking each other like crazy. Which wasn't what Snape had planned at all if he was being honest. He had planned on saying that he'd sue the brats if they continued filming and then use the money he won from the trial to pay off the $10 million. Though he hadn't thought that they would actually believe him, he was growing desperate. Snape wanted to go back to Hogwarts University, and if _that_ didn't say something, he didn't know what did. Gratefully, Snape didn't even need to threaten them – they'd given him a way out on their own.

While they continued their debate, Snape started to turn around and head towards the doors he'd come through. Only to see Albus Dumbledore standing guard. Their eyes locked in a standoff, and Snape blocked out all the noise surrounding him. Sure, the old man had proven to be stronger than he looked, but Snape was a _master _at glares. He practically had a doctorate's degree in glaring, for Merlin's sake. Dumbledore didn't stand a chance. He'd eventually back off and let Snape pass through.

And he would have won (honestly) except it turned out that his boss was not only abnormally strong, but a cheater as well. Just as Snape's glare was getting really heated, Dumbledore opened his mouth and ended the game.

"We only have an hour and a half left," he announced, his eyes purposely catching Granger's.

"WHAT?"

* * *

><p>"Harry," Weasley whimpered. "I don't think I can hear out of my left ear anymore."<p>

"I don't think I can either, mate. I've never heard her scream that loud before in my entire life," Potter said.

Snape glared at the stall's door. Only fifteen minutes had passed since Granger's outburst, and the bloody know-it-all had not wasted a second. She told Creevey to get the cameras rolling, sent Dumbledore out to gorge on more candy, pushed the clothes racks into Weasley's hands, and slammed Snape into a dressing room with Potter and Weasley. For a moment, Severus had been convinced that he was in some huge nightmare starring Albus who had Super Strength, Hermione and her Super Scream, and Weasley and Potter with their Super Stupidity. But then he saw the outfit he'd been handed and told to try on and knew that he wasn't dreaming. His subconscious would never come up with something so hideous.

"Professor, we need you to come out now," Potter said from the other side of the door.

"If we get off our schedule now, Hermione will kill us," Weasley said, fear evident in his voice.

"In that case, I think I'll stay here for another ten minutes," Snape replied, smirking when he heard the boy choke.

"You wouldn't!"

"You deserve a very slow and painful death, Mr. Weasley, for even thinking that I'd wear this ridiculous outfit."

"You have it on," Potter asked hopefully, cutting off his friend's next response.

"Don't get too excited, Potter. I'm taking it off right now." He moved to start unbuttoning his shirt.

"No! Please, sir. Ron wasn't joking. Hermione really will kill us if we don't hurry up again."

Snape snorted. "And I plan on writing her a lovely thank you note once I get back."

"But that's what you don't understand, Professor. She will come for you, too. It will be a massacre, and she's smart. She won't leave any witnesses. You saw her back there, right?"

Snape froze for a moment before letting out a dry laugh. "She wouldn't come into the _men's_ dressing room, Potter."

"Didn't she follow you all the way to the _men's_ bathroom last time?"

"…"

* * *

><p>The men's dressing room had two parts: a narrow hallway filled with seven dressing stalls and a lounge area with two couches, several floor length mirrors, and blaring rock music. As expected, Snape preferred the hallway, but he found himself leaving his tiny, safe dressing stall and heading towards the larger room where the two idiots were.<p>

Hearing his footsteps, Potter turned, a relieved smile plastered on his face before he could even get a full look at Snape. And when he did, his cheeks burst with so much color that it was as if a toddler had taken a red marker to his face. It was more than obvious that the boy was embarrassed. He had graduated from one of Europe's top universities with a fashion degree, and this was the best he could come up with. Potter should be embarrassed as far as Snape was concerned.

"You look –" Potter began before Snape held up his hand.

"Just start filming," Snape snapped.

Potter opened his mouth to say something else, but his attention was drawn away by Weasley who was tapping incessantly at his watch. "Harry, we don't have time," Weasley reminded his friend, none too gently.

With a sigh, Potter nodded, put on a small smile, and then turned to Creevey whose cameras were already rolling. It was almost fascinating to watch as the boy snapped into his professional mode, with an emphasis on almost. "Yesterday, Professor Snape went shopping for new clothes, but what he doesn't know is that we had cameras filming him the whole time, and we were watching him. Unfortunately, Snape totally failed his exam," he said, shaking his head in disappointment. Snape rolled his eyes.

"He didn't follow a word of our advice," Weasley added, "and bought all of the same, boring clothes."

"Since he bombed the test, Ron and I have come to help." Snape snorted. That was the funniest joke he'd heard all day.

"We picked out nine fashionable outfits for him to try on today, and he gets to choose which one he likes."

"So let's take a look at the first outfit." Creevey turned the camera so that it was directed towards Snape. "Here we have a light blue oxford shirt layered with a dark blue, silk vest. We topped it with a simple, grey blazer and then added blue jeans and a brown leather belt. This would be a perfect outfit to wear to work."

"Really? I was thinking that it better suited the circus," Snape remarked, crossing his arms.

Weasley looked insulted. "What? No way," he spluttered. "This came from H&M. It's classy and stylish."

"I don't care it comes from A&B, C&D, or Y&Z. It's appalling," Snape said bluntly.

"But you look so –" Potter started again.

"I don't want to hear it, Potter. Hand me the next clown suit, and let's move on."

* * *

><p>"You can wear this out to the city or to soccer games after your classes are over," Potter said.<p>

Snape raised an eyebrow. He was wearing a striped business shirt, a blue and crème vest, a brown "utility" jacket, light blue jeans, and brown boots. Basically, it was an outfit that only a pothead could come up with. And Potter must be truly out of his mind if he honestly thought that he would go out in public wearing those clothes.

"Goodwill wouldn't even accept this outfit," Snape stated.

"Goodwill would love to get these clothes, sir. We got them from Tommy Hilfiger," Ron said, puffing out his chest in pride.

"Well then I suggest you tell Tommy that he can have them back," he replied sourly. "I don't want his ugly hand-me-downs."

As Snape walked back to his stall with the third outfit, he could have heard sworn that he heard Potter sigh.

* * *

><p>"I look like a bloody lumberjack," Snape yelled.<p>

"No, you look handsome," Potter protested, examining Snape's outfit. This time he was wearing a plaid long-sleeved shirt, a green sweater with navy blue sleeves, and a grey wool jacket.

"If by handsome you mean horrid, then yes."

"Do you know how expensive these clothes are," Weasley asked, clearly irritated.

"No, but I'm sure Paul Bunyan charged you a ton for them," Snape countered.

Potter didn't even argue with him, and just handed over the next bundle of clothes without saying a word.

* * *

><p>"We thought a maroon colored shirt might contrast nicely with your skin tone," Potter said. "What do you think?"<p>

Snape looked at his reflection in one of the mirrors and frowned. The real "winner" of this outfit was supposed to be the belt, which supposedly cost nearly $100. The instant he'd seen it, he'd been filled with the sudden desire to chuck the stupid thing at Potter's big head, but he was fine with the rest of the look. The khakis weren't clinging to his legs like the jeans from before had, and the black business shoes were slightly comfortable. Still, he'd never admit such a thing to Potter.

"It's too tight," he grumbled before exiting the room.

* * *

><p>Snape threw the caramel brown trench coat on the ground at Potter's feet.<p>

"It has come to my attention that you think I live in the bloody North Pole," Snape snapped. "It's seventy-five degrees outside, Potter!"

Potter's face twisted in confusion. "But you can't wear the black denim shirt and wool vest without the jacket," he said, as if Snape was telling him that you didn't really need the second hydrogen in H20.

"It would completely ruin the look," Weasley agreed, reaching down to pick up the coat.

"I think the tie did that already," Snape retorted. Just looking at the stupid thing gave him a headache. It had white waves, red slashes, orange lines, and blue dots and resembled a two year old's art project.

"Hey! I have a tie just like that," Weasley shouted.

"My point exactly."

* * *

><p>"Seventy-five degrees, Potter! It is absolutely ridiculous that I have to stand here and suffer because you're too ignorant to buy a bloody thermometer," Snape barked. He was sweating bullets, for Merlin's sake.<p>

"You can take off the cardigan, if that will make you feel better," Potter offered.

As if that would actually help! He was being weighed down by a grey sweater, a dark grey cardigan, brown corduroy pants, and a thick grey and tan scarf. The only thing that weighed less than five pounds was the slim leather bracelet they forced him to wear, and that happened to be the thing that he despised the most. What next? They demand he pierce his ears?

* * *

><p>"I don't know what costume store this came from, but it needs to go back there. Immediately," Snape hollered.<p>

Weasley tilted his head to the side. "You know, if you slicked his hair back, he would kind of look like Woody," Weasley said. "All we're missing is a Buzz Lightyear."

Weasley started laughing at his own joke and for a moment, Snape really did wish he were a cowboy. He'd swing his lasso, toss it over Weasley's head, and squeeze the last chuckle out of the boy's throat. They'd see who would be laughing then.

"I don't care what you guys say," Potter said, breaking Snape away from his daydream. "He does _no_t look like a cowboy."

* * *

><p>"It's really not that complicated," Snape said with a sigh. "There are only four seasons, and winter comes right after fall. People wear sweaters in the winter. You can recognize winter when white things start falling down from the sky. We call those things snowflakes. Are you starting to understand now?"<p>

Potter rolled his eyes. "I know what winter is, Professor," he muttered.

"Well then tell me why I'm wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a bloody sweater!"

Potter pouted. "Because I thought you would look hot in light purple," he replied.

Insert face palm.

* * *

><p>"Do you like this outfit," Potter asked, already wincing in preparation for Snape's response.<p>

Snape kept quiet as he stared at his reflection in one of the floor length mirrors. Potter seemed to gain confidence with his silence.

"I really love this look on you. I know that you hate a bunch of layers, but I think that you were born to wear jackets. I mean, look at this leather jacket. It's perfect for you! I thought you'd like the shirt, too. It's a charcoal color, and you'll notice how soft the cotton fabric feels. Dark and comfortable. That's exactly what you were looking for, right? And I can see that you don't like the knitted scarf, but it suits you really well. I wasn't sure about the grey, striped pants earlier, but I glad we got them. They are loose enough to give you room to move around freely but not too baggy. And those military boots aren't that different from the boots you're wearing now if you think about it," Potter explained.

Snape just kept looking at his reflection while the boys waited eagerly for him to speak.

"Maybe he has run out of insults," Weasley suggested to Potter.

Snape barely heard him. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing. Somehow, Potter had managed to pick out something decent. (It figured that it would take him nine tries to get it right.) He even found himself running his hand along the grey scarf and enjoying the feeling left on his fingertips.

"Umm, Snape, what do you think," Potter questioned tentatively.

"It's adequate," Snape said after a minute, still staring at the mirror.

When Snape turned around to look at Potter, he could have sworn that he saw the boy's eyes glistening. "In case you didn't notice, Potter, that was _not_ a compliment. I said it was adequate as in mediocre or acceptable," he clarified.

Weasley swung an arm over Potter's shoulder. "We can celebrate your victory later, Harry. We need to get Snape over to the salon now before Hermione comes in to check on us," Weasley said, a small smile on his face.

Snape's hand dropped to his side, the scarf completely forgotten. "What in Merlin's name are you two talking about? We're supposed to be going to the airport now." That was the only thing that had gotten him through the day – the promise that he'd be heading home that very day.

Weasley laughed. "Why would we go to the airport when Luna's hair salon is just three blocks away," he asked.

"Luna?"

"Yeah, Luna Lovegood is going to give you a new haircut. Aren't you excited?"

Snape knew Luna almost as well as Potter, Granger, and Weasley. To put it simply, Luna was a lunatic. And there was no way in hell she was coming anywhere near Snape's head, especially not with scissors.

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><p>AN: I must credit the Luna Lovegood idea to **Thesistersblack4998**. I love Luna, and I'm very excited to have her come into my story.

I want you guys to know that I read all of your reviews and consider all of the suggestions you give me (I put in the purple and maroon for you, **Coy Koi**), so please leave me more review. I wrote two completely different versions of this chapter, so I'd really like to hear if I made the right decision in posting this one.

Just like last time, you can find links to the outfits I used in my profile.

-Marginal Benefits


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: Don't sign papers without reading the fine print. Snape learns his lesson the hard way and winds up on "What Not To Wear" with his former student, Harry Potter, as the host.

Warning: AU, non-magic, and slash

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the books or the movie. If I did, I would use the money to give two puppies and two kittens (all perfectly trained and perfectly adorable) to **Thesistersblack4998**, a shopping spree in a Mac store and Barnes and Noble to **H0licist, **an all expense paid trip to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando to **animegirl03** and **revengerufus**, and an airline to **The Coy Koi** so that she can fly to her tropical island whenever she wants to.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the late upload. I've been overwhelmed with the start of the school year and stuck on this chapter. After writing and scrapping two other versions of chapter five, I decided to stick with this one. I hope you all like it!It's a little bit longer than my other chapters. I was very eager to get this posted before I had to leave, so I apologize if you find any spelling mistakes or other kinds of errors. I reviewed it quickly, but if you catch anything like **The Coy Koi** did in chapter 4, just let me know. :)

Please enjoy!

-Marginal Benefits

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><p>Pink furry walls. Potter had taken him to a store with pink furry walls. Pink. Furry. Walls.<p>

"Umm, Luna wanted to design her salon on her own," Potter clarified, scratching the back of his head.

"Really? I never would have guessed," Snape said sarcastically as he continued to survey the salon.

In the center of the lime green ceiling hung an ornate chandelier that lit up the room, it's bright light illuminating the half dozen rabbit pictures that scattered across the walls. The framed photo closest to Snape had a rabbit wearing a small lion headdress. The bunny stood on a rock and appeared to be imitating a scene from "Lion King." The photograph beside that included a rabbit wearing a red jacket, grey pants, and glasses. A golden pocket watch leaned against its side. The oddest of them all was a pale bunny standing on its hind legs and standing in between a yellow teddy bear and a plush tiger toy. Snape didn't know what to make out of that one.

Aside from the walls and decorations, the salon was pretty standard. There was a part sectioned off for waiting customers. Surprisingly and probably in a rare moment of lucidity, Luna had placed several tasteful leather armchairs and a mahogany coffee table there. Separating the waiting area from the actual salon was a check-in counter. Behind the counter were a half a dozen black swivel chairs, oddly shaped mirrors, sinks, cabinets, and two black doors.

"Luna's doing us a favor, Professor, so you should be grateful," Granger chastised, clearly not appreciating Snape's behavior.

"Oh, yes. I'm quite indebted to her. After she accidentally shears off an ear and I'm rushed to the nearest hospital, do tell her that I couldn't be more pleased," Snape replied.

Weasley frowned. "Luna graduated with a 3.8 GPA, sir, and has gone through months of training. She wouldn't do something like that," he declared confidently.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "If my memory serves me correctly, you came to Hogwarts with a 3.6 GPA and several years of high school chemistry under your belt. And somehow you managed to set your lab procedures on fire on your very first day of class."

The redhead started to blush and turned to Potter who was desperately trying to hide a grin. "How does he remember all that? It was four bloody years ago," he hissed.

"So surely you understand my hesitance to trust Lunatic Lovegood with sharp weapons so close to my head. It may not be a concern for those like yourself who seem to have been born without brains entirely, but it does present somewhat of an issue for people like me," Snape said, ignoring Weasley's side comment.

"Hey, that's n –" Weasley started before being cut off.

"Barry Bunny told me you guys would be coming," a voice sang.

Snape turned away from Weasley to watch as a blonde young lady stepped out of one of the doors from the back and joined them. She wore a khaki-colored knitted dress, polka dot leggings, and red Converse. Just like her salon décor and her lab reports, the girl's outfit made no sense. Snape couldn't even imagine what she was going to do with his innocent hair.

"Barry Bunny," Snape repeated, resisting the urge to slap his forehead. If the woman was indeed conversing with little animals, then he was absolutely hopeless.

Potter hugged the mentally unbalanced girl. "That's what she calls me sometimes, and she calls Ron Bon Bunny. She really loves rabbits," he explained needlessly.

"I hadn't noticed," Snape drawled, pointedly staring at one of the rabbit pictures on the wall.

"Why don't you sit down over here, Beverus Bunny," Luna asked, walking over to one of the swivel chairs and patting the black cushion.

"For your own personal safety, I suggest that you refrain from ever using that atrocious nickname again," he growled lowly. "I know how to use scissors in ways you've never heard of before."

Potter and Weasley shared a look before Potter placed a tentative hand on Snape's shoulder. "We're going to head out now," he informed his Professor, quickly retracting his hand.

Four seconds later and Snape found himself alone with Lovegood and Creevey, aka Lunatic and Creepy. Snape was not pleased.

* * *

><p>"When was the last time you've gotten your hair done," Luna questioned as she rinsed shampoo out of Snape's hair.<p>

"I don't believe that is any of your business," Snape snapped.

His hair was a sensitive topic for him. On almost all of his end of the semester evaluations, students wrote that he needed to wash his stringy, black hair more often. People complained that it looked and smelled nasty, but none of them knew how many hours of his day were spent trying to fix Potter and Weasley's messes. With those two in his classes, he rarely had time to spend on such luxuries as washing his hair. He woke up, went to work, checked to see if the fire extinguisher wasn't empty, taught his lectures, supervised labs, yelled at Potter, went home, corrected reports and exams, collapsed onto his bed, and then repeated the whole process over again the next day. There wasn't much time left in between for him to do much of anything else. Even if there were, he certainly wouldn't drive to a pink salon and pay good money for a blonde psycho to do his hair.

Snape fidgeted a bit in his chair as Luna applied conditioner. He found his current position extremely uncomfortable. Unlike Snape, Luna was still standing and was therefore staring down at him as her hands ran through his hair. Her face hovered mere inches away from Snape's, and he was desperate for some personal space.

"I'll have to tell Braco Bunny to trim your ends," Luna said, more to herself than to her customer.

Snape jerked upright in his seat, shooting droplets of water everywhere. "Wait! You're not cutting my hair," he asked, his body frozen in excitement and anticipation.

Luna tilted her head to the side. "How could I? Disney channel is playing 'Alice in Wonderland' in five minutes," she explained as she gently tugged Snape's head back and began to rinse out the conditioner. "I was worried that I'd miss it when Barry Bunny called, but he only wanted me to do a simple wash."

"But Bar- Harry told me that you were going to cut my hair," Snape insisted, cursing himself for the slip up.

Luna cut off the water and started to wring the water out of Snape's hair. "Barry Bunny wouldn't do that. He wants you to be comfortable and confident most of all," she began. "He knows that you like your hair the length it is now and guessed that you didn't really have the time to clean it when you got home. Besides, if you did, you'd miss 'Vampire Diaries.'"

As per usual, Luna Lovegood was speaking utter nonsense. What she just said implied that Potter was actually observant and considerate of others, two characteristics that Snape knew did not apply to the insolent brat. "Don't give Potter that much credit, Ms. Lovegood. He doesn't deserve it. As for watching 'Vampire Diaries,' I assure you that I have never watched a single episode of that pathetic mockery of modern television."

"But I thought vampires loved that show," Luna said, frowning in confusion.

"And what gave you the impression that I'm a vampire," Snape questioned, slipping out of the chair the moment Luna's hands stopped wringing.

Luna shrugged and reached for a hot pink towel to wipe her hands. "Bon Bunny pointed out your pale skin, dark hair, and black clothes. He said that you had to be a vampire." She gestured towards another black chair that was positioned below a hooded hair-drying contraption.

"I am not a vampire," Snape snapped, hoping that this would finally kill the rumor that had begun to spread around Hogwarts a couple of years ago. At least now he knew who had started it. Weasley would pay for that.

"That's good. I was worried that you'd drink all of Barry Bunny's blood."

"Why in Merlin's name would I ever touch that dimwit?"

Luna smiled and spun slowly over to the hair dryer, refusing to answer until Snape reluctantly sat down. "Once they've found their mates, vampires only drink their blood," she explained. "If you were to try to suck anybody's blood besides Barry Bunny's, you'd get sick."

Now that Snape thought about it, he would have preferred that Lovegood had done his hair and cut off his ears so that he won't be forced to listen to such drivel. "Potter is not my mate, and as I said earlier, I am not a vampire," he spat, glaring vehemently at the pink furry walls in front of him.

Luna twisted a knob on the side of the hair dryer that caused the machine to rumble to a start and blow hot air down on Snape's head. "If you aren't mates, then why do you both love each other?"

"I do not l –" he started, his nails digging into his palms in anger.

"I'm late! I'm late for a very important date," Luna hollered abruptly, rudely interrupting her former professor, and dashed out of the room and through one of the black doors.

Snape shook his head, accidentally bumping it on the side of the hair dryer. All this time he'd thought that Luna Lovegood was Potter's drug dealer, but it appeared as if she was just a user after all.

* * *

><p>Had Creevey not been guarding the front doors like a German Shepard on a mission, Snape would have escaped the moment Luna had left. Instead, he had been stuck sitting on the same bloody chair for thirty minutes straight. The heat from the hair dryer was causing the skin on his exposed shoulder to turn a shocking shade of red that must be unhealthy. The music playing in the background was on its third rotation, and he was beyond tired of hearing "When You Wish Upon a Star." He had wished that someone would release him from this hell hole the first time it had played, and where did that leave him? In the exact same spot developing skin cancer. Lesson learned? Crickets are liars.<p>

Just as "I Just Can't Wait to Be King" started to play, Snape heard a door open from behind him. Finally she was back!

"I'm burning, Ms. Lovegood. If you don't get over here and cut this machine off this very instant, I promise you that I'll have the government shut your stupid salon down," he threatened, gritting his teeth in anger.

Snape listened as the sound of footsteps grew louder and then stopped. "I could care less if this place shut down. I'll just find somewhere to work. As soon as they hear that I'm available, people from all over the world will be asking for me," a distinctly male voice boasted before actually fulfilling Snape's request.

As familiar as the voice was to him, Snape had to turn his head around to make sure, and there to his right stood the one and only, Draco Malfoy. Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, had been Snape's old college roommates, so Snape was well acquainted with the young man. Draco had followed almost identically in Lucius's footsteps, adopting the elder's proud and spoiled personality and attending Hogwarts University the moment he graduated from Britain's most prestigious high school. In fact, the "Lion King" song was quite fitting for him.

Draco had signed up for Snape's introductory science classes his freshman year in hopes of becoming a successful doctor like his father and ended up in the same sections as Harry Potter. Almost immediately, the two had formed a rivalry. They teased, taunted, and threatened each other on a daily basis, which would have been quite entertaining had it not all occurred during Snape's class. Consequently, Snape had to pull an unorthodox move – give a grown man, by the law's standards at least, a detention. Needless to say, Potter hadn't been pleased, especially since Malfoy was let off the hook. Lesson learned? Life isn't fair.

After freshman year, Draco made the strange decision to switch to the Art school and pursue his interest in cosmetology. Lucius had been heavily disappointed but slowly came to terms with his son's choice. Draco claimed that he'd always been interested in doing people's hair and not operating on people like his father, but Snape secretly believed that the younger Malfoy had grown addicted to tormenting Potter and wanted to have more chances to do so.

Even with all this knowledge, Snape couldn't for the life of him figure out how Draco wound up working for Luna Lovegood. Other than the color of hair, the two were entirely different, and Draco was certainly more talented.

"What are you doing here," Snape asked bluntly.

Draco appeared to be thrown back by his former teacher's harsh tone but recovered quickly. "Didn't Looney Bin tell you that I work here," he questioned.

Snape tried to remember all the things the crazy girl had said before it finally hit him. "_You're _Braco Bunny?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I told her to stop calling me that," he mumbled, pushing the hair dryer aside and stepping into the unoccupied space.

"What are you doing here," Snape repeated.

Snape couldn't see what Draco was doing, which was slightly disturbing since the boy kept quite for a few minutes before finally responding. "Apparently, father never could completely get over the idea of his son becoming a hair dresser. During our graduation ceremony, he sent out an email to all the top salons in the country telling them not to hire me," Draco hesitantly told his former professor. "I searched for months for a place to work until I found this place." He shrugged. "She has no clue what she's doing and pays me three times what any other salon would give me, so I figured it would be a decent starting place while I established my hair styling skills."

Snape nodded. That sounded like something Lucius Malfoy would do. "Sounds reasonable," he admitted, knowing that Draco would find any other comment offensive or suspicious.

Draco nodded in turn. "Yeah, I'll probably start looking for another salon in a few months," he said, pulling a pair of scissors out of thin air. "I was going to leave earlier, but then Luna told me that 'What Not To Wear' would be taping here."

That wasn't all too surprising. Draco sought attention and spotlight with the same level of determination as Ms. Granger during the week of final exams. "So you knew I'd be coming," Snape asked.

"Yeah, but Potter made us sign some contract not to say anything to you or anyone else. Otherwise, I would have warned you."

Damn Potter and his ridiculous contracts! "So he just wanted me to get my hair washed?"

Draco held up the end of Snape's hair and snipped away at the ends. "Not exactly. He also asked me to do your nails."

Snape's entire body stiffened. Potter had just crossed the line. "If Potter thinks that I'm just going to sit here and be his personal little Barbie, he is sorely mistaken!"

Draco continued to clip and snip away. "As much as I hate to defend the stupid loser, I have to admit that I don't think he's trying to play around with you, sir. He seemed to legitimately think that it was a good idea."

"Oh really?" Snape snorted. "He must have been talking to you after one of his many drug binges."

Draco laughed before agreeing with the possibility. "He told me, word for word, that he thought that you were born to wear black nail polish."

"And therein lies the problem. Potter having a thought? That has been scientifically proven impossible."

Moving so that he stood in front of Snape, Draco took a moment to examine his work before shaking his head in appreciation. "I am a god," he whispered to himself.

Snape rolled his eyes. "So are we escaping through one of those black doors or rushing the front door," he asked, watching Creevey carefully. "If you were to play decoy and distract him for a few seconds, I could slip right through without anybody noticing."

Draco turned away and went to another workstation where he bent down to open some cabinet. "I wish we could, but the contract requires me to do your nails before you can leave."

When Draco walked back to Snape, the chemistry professor noticed him carrying a translucent toolbox that held a multitude of tiny, colorful bottles. "Et tu Brute," he mumbled, receiving an apologetic smile from his new traitor. Apparently, Snape had no true friends in this world.

"On the positive side, once you're finished will all of this, you might actually be able to score a date with Potter."

Snape's face scrunched up in puzzlement. "Is that code for saying that my end is coming near?"

Draco rolled his eyes, failing miserably to reach the eye-rolling caliber of his father and former chemistry professor. "You can give it up now, sir. Everybody but Potter and his freaks knew that you had a crush on him."

Snape shook his head in disappointment. "Your father raised you to appreciate the finer things in life like red wine and champagne, and here I see you're dabbling in meth and cocaine. You should feel ashamed of yourself for lowing your standards to Potter's level."

"You don't have to hide it from me, sir. You're not the only one who finds him attractive. All the girls in Hogwarts certainly did. Though they must of have been blind to not see _my_ good looks."

"I do not think he's attractive, Mr. Malfoy. From the looks of his hair, you'd swear he was oblivious of the invention of the comb."

"Yes, his just-been-shagged look is kind of hot. It was obvious from how often you watched him in class that you noticed that much."

"Weasley and Potter were fire hazards. I had the responsibility as a Hogwarts professor to make sure that they didn't harm the rest of my students."

"Then there are the heated arguments the both of you had in class where you could practically feel the sexual tension. You're lucky that Dumbledore never sat in on your classes, though I bet he'd love to see his two favorite people get together." Draco shivered in disgust.

"Are you listening to a word I'm saying, Draco?"

"He kept on signing up for your classes, and you never once kicked him out."

"I-I'm not allowed to without appropriate reasons."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You're Severus Snape. I'm sure you could have come up with something, but the truth is that you didn't want to. You even curved test scores for the whole class so that Potter would pass and be able to sign up for your next course as he always did."

"Everyone would have failed if I hadn't done that!"

Draco shrugged, clearly forgetting the fact that he himself would have flunked without Snape's aid. "That may be true, but that's not why you curved the scores."

"Then please tell me why I did do it since you seem to have all the answers to the universe."

"You did it all because you, Professor Severus Snape, have fallen in love with Harry Potter. Personally, I think you could do much better, but Potter seems to like you, too, so I say go for it." He slapped Snape's shoulder in a gesture of companionship; however, Snape wasn't in the mood for such displays.

"Get your hands off of me, and get out before I do something that I should, but undoubtedly won't, regret," he growled, only just then realizing that his nails were now charcoal black. Apparently, Draco had taken advantage of Snape's distraction to finish his task.

Draco didn't seem fazed by his former teacher's reaction. "Why don't you take a walk for a bit? Potter and his circus friends are expecting you in the hotel's bar in two hours, so you've got sometime to work things out."

Snape barely heard a word as he was seconds away from the door the moment Draco had opened his mouth. He would deal with Dr. Phil at another time. Right now, he just needed to get away from all the drug addicts and mentally insane people to find some peace of his own. A famous author once wrote that bookshops are excellent for panic attacks. For that precise reason, he left the strange salon and searched for the nearest Barnes and Noble he could find.

* * *

><p>AN: Bonus points if you can name the rabbit from the picture that Snape found the oddest of them all.

If anyone was interested, Meg Cabot, author of _The Princess Diaries_, was the famous author I was referring to_._

Please review and have an awesome holiday weekend! -Marginal Benefits


	6. Chapter 6

Summary: Don't sign papers without reading the fine print. Snape learns his lesson the hard way and winds up on "What Not To Wear" with his former student, Harry Potter, as the host.

Warning: AU, non-magic, and slash

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the books or the movie. If I did, I would use the money to give Sea World to **Thesistersblack4998**, an apartment in Paris to **XxHarry-DracoxX, **and a cozy house a mile away from J. K. Rowling for **Rori Potter**. I also do not own "What Not To Wear."

A/N: Sorry for the wait, everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

><p>As Snape browsed through the reference books, he was slowly coming to the conclusion that this three-story Barnes and Noble was missing the most essential book in the universe, <em>Understanding Crackheads for Dummies<em>. He was positive that such a guide would help him comprehend all rubbish Luna and Draco had said in the salon.

As for Potter, he didn't have high hopes of ever understanding the boy completely and didn't believe that any book could help him do so. Snape could barely even imagine what the table of contents would have to look like.

Chapter 1: Possible Explanation for Why People Like Potter Exist

Chapter 2: Getting to Know Potter's Family and Friends

Chapter 3: Why People Find Potter Appealing

Chapter 4: The Failings of Potter's Early Education

Chapter 5: How Potter Managed to Graduate

Chapter 6: Potter's First Experience with Drugs

Chapter 7: Complete List of Potter's Addictions

Chapter 8: Why Potter is Addicted to Drawing Snape in Class

Chapter 9: Why Potter Should Never Have Drunk Conversations with Snape

Chapter 9: Why People Think Potter Likes Snape

Chapter 10: Why Potter Insists on Confusing the Hell Out of Snape

Chapter 11: Why Potter's Cohorts Insist on Confusing the Hell Out of Snape

Chapter 12: Predictions About Potter's Future

Alas, no such table of contents existed, and Snape was left to figure out everything on his own.

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><p><em>I won't force you to change into another outfit.<em>

Snape snorted down at the crumpled letter in his hands that was clearly from Potter. Only cavemen and a few Hogwarts teachers could decipher Potter's chicken scratches. Besides, Potter was the only person who would have the audacity to enter his room uninvited. Even the cleaning maids had had the sense to skip over room 302 when they were cleaning his hall. The chemistry professor wondered what tricks the brat had used to get his hands on Snape's hotel room key.

_Tonight you have two options. Once you're dressed, come downstairs._

Folding the paper in half, Snape placed it back on his bedside table and then examined his two choices that lay on top of the green comforter. He easily recognized the first. It was a black business jacket that his college roommate had given him so many years ago. The black had faded to a shade that could easily pass as grey, but it was still suitable to Snape. A grey turtleneck sweater was draped on top of the jacket, partially concealing a simple pair of black slacks. There was a tiny hole developing on the side of the sweater, and the pants were an inch too long, but Snape didn't mind. In fact, he was mildly surprised that Potter and Weasley hadn't tossed it in the rubbish bin already. Though the outfit probably didn't stand up to their standards, it was Snape's classic outfit, one that he tended to wear on semi-formal events.

His second option was completely foreign to Snape. It started with a single button jacket that had a dark grey body and a light grey collar with a muted purple silk border. Beside it was a simple off-white oxford shirt that was missing a few buttons at the top. The pants had thin strips that alternated in color from the dark grey of his jacket to a lighter grey. Sitting on the carpet below the pants was a pair of black leather shoes. They looked average to Snape, but he had a feeling that they cost more than a month's salary.

Snape's eyes wandered back and forth between the two. He wondered if Potter knew what he was actually asking Snape to do. He could play safe and pick his old outfit, go back to his old life. Or he could take a chance, pick the new clothes, and start an entirely new life. However, this went far beyond choosing the suits Snape would be wearing from now on. This was about his future – about how he was going to be living the rest of the life.

* * *

><p>Granger was standing right outside of his elevator the moment the door opened. Her arms were glued to her waist, and her curly brown hair went off in strange directions as if five or six blind toddlers had each taken a comb to her head. It wasn't a pleasant sight.<p>

"You're five minutes late," Granger whined

Snape stepped out and stared down at the girl. "Miss Granger, it is a quarter to six. I'm early," he corrected.

The flustered girl wasn't satisfied. "We expected you to be down at 5:30, and now we're already behind," she wailed.

"How tragic," Snape remarked sarcastically, already more than bored with the conversation.

Granger massaged her temples. "Never mind. We'll just have to continue as planned. I need you to stand outside of the bar doors for precisely eighty-five seconds before coming in, all right? Everyone else is inside waiting for you. _They _all came on time."

Snape gritted his teeth. "Miss Granger, I am not in the mood for receiving a lecture from a mere _child_. I'll go in whenever I'm ready. Is that understood?"

Hogwarts's valedictorian shook her head and threw her hands up into the air. "I give up! I give up," she hollered. "If you and Harry don't want to follow the rules, that's just fine with me. I, on the other hand, actually care about keeping this show on air, but it looks like I'm the only one."

With that said, she stomped off mumblings something about appetizers getting cold. Snape rolled her eyes at the girl's dramatics but was secretly grateful for the distraction Granger provided. If he was mentally berating her that meant that he wasn't thinking about how unsettled he felt. He wasn't thinking about the outfit he wasn't wearing. He wasn't thinking about the reaction he was or wasn't going to receive from one brown-haired boy. He was just thinking about finding a way to follow the maniac running through the hallways without getting caught.

It was commonly known that Hogwarts's best science teacher wasn't one for surprises. He suspected that Granger wasn't freaking out over some dinner with Dumbo, Clueless, Dumbledore, and Creevey, and he was going into the bar until he figured exactly what that girl had up her sleeves.

* * *

><p>"What the blood hell," Snape cursed as he peeked through the side kitchen door and took a look around the bar.<p>

His haven! What had they done with his haven? The furniture and décor were all the same as the other day, but the blissful ambiance was completely gone – as well as the hot bartender. Now, he was bombarded with the scent of wet dog and was greeted by a room full of twenty or more people all of whom he actually knew.

The most obvious presence was that of the four hundred pound giant known as Rubeus Hagrid. He wore his typical brown trench coat and brown shirt. Combined with his unshaven beard and long brown hair, Hagrid had the resemblance of a hobo. As a matter of fact, Snape wasn't totally convinced that he wasn't really a homeless bum. Still, Dumbledore and Potter were fond of the Hogwarts professor; many seemed to tolerate his abhorrent appearance and dialogue. In fact, Minerva was currently listening politely to his nonsense.

Snape spotted Argus Filch, the school's head janitor, next. The man had straggly brown hair and was in desperate need of an appointment with a dentist, but Snape didn't really have any qualms with him. They weren't exactly friends, and Snape assumed he'd come for the free food.

Professor Flitwick was standing beside Filch with a wineglass in hand. Primarily, he directed Hogwarts's choir, but he occasionally taught a course on proper etiquette called "How Charming: The Magic of Manners." Students started complaining that he was too short to see him during lectures, so the class had been indefinitely removed from the school's course list. Snape had only spoken with the dwarf once or twice, so he must have received an invite out of courteousness.

Mrs. Hooch, Hogwarts's athletic director, was chatting with Professor Trelawney. Even though the eccentric professor was hired to teach history, she spent the majority of her class predicting what will happen in the future. According to her analysis, the world was coming to an end in 2015667 AC. Exactly.

Snape was highly disappointed to see Horace Slughorn in attendance. The chemistry professor had been dismissed from his Yale job three years ago and was constantly begging Dumbledore for a position in the science department. He'd probably get one once Snape left, now that he thought about it, which was quite a shame for any student hoping to pursue a scientific field. Slughorn couldn't teach to save his life, which was part of the reason why Snape utterly despised him. Actually, Snape named his private collection of experimental poisons after Slughorn. Horns of Death was a particularly potent concoction that could knock a victim dead in ten seconds.

Snape glanced over Sirius Black and Remus Lupin who were hovering by the bar. It was best to pretend as if they weren't actually there. Instead, he trained his eyes on Dumbledore. The old man was trying to calm down Draco Malfoy whose face was bright red from some conversation he was having with Luna. (The only time Snape had seen him that angry was when Potter asked where he got his hair dyed.)

To the dean's right were Granger and Weasley. Though Snape wasn't close enough to hear, he could tell by Granger's wild hand gestures that she was off on another rant. He could also tell that Weasley wasn't paying her an ounce of attention and was trying to drown out the annoying yapping with a glass of champagne. Snape snorted. That was the smartest thing he'd ever seen the redhead do.

A similar situation was mirrored by another couple, Ginny and Potter, except there were some distinct differences. Ginny was yacking away about something trivial (undoubtedly), but Potter wasn't even looking at her. He was looking straight at Snape, which made the chemistry professor look down and realize that he'd stepped in the room a lot farther than he'd intentioned. Ever since Snape was a child, he'd never been good at Hide and Seek.

"Professor," Potter gasped, his jade eyes still trained on Snape.

Snape sighed. The gig was up.

"Professor Snape," Granger asked, stopping her rant to look around the room until she finally spotted the man in question. "You were supposed to be coming through the main doors!"

Her complaints caused anyone who hadn't already turned around to switch their attention to Snape.

"You look so handsome, Severus," Minerva cooed.

Snape waved away the compliment. There were more important matters at hand. "Who invited Slugporn," he questioned roughly.

"Severus," Dumbledore warned, his eyes flashing. "We're all here to celebrate your successful transformation and your early retirement."

That didn't answer his question. "I think we can do that without Horass," he responded.

"You look very nice, Professor," Flitwick complimented, temporarily distracting the increasing irate man.

"Not too bad," Filch remarked, pulling on the end of his own vest.

"You should wear that javket every day, mate," Hagrid suggested, walking forward to slap Snape on the back. The giant had no sense of his own strength, much to the displeasure of all his friends and colleagues.

As it was, Snape barely stopped himself from cringing. There would be a bruise there tomorrow morning.

"There will be a bruise there tomorrow morning," Trelawney echoed, joining the crowd of people circling Snape. Raising a single eyebrow, he wondered if that was the first realistic prediction her had ever heard come out of her mouth.

"I guess we can't call you a greasy git anymore, can we," Weasley asked, receiving a swift blow to the stomach from his irritated girlfriend.

"I don't know. It would be a shame to loose such a fitting nickname," Sirius said, receiving a hard kick to his knee from his irritated boyfriend.

"Precisely why I keep calling you Fleabag," Snape reasoned.

"I think he looks like a true gentleman," Ginny said, causing Snape to growl and others to hum in agreement.

"That's because I did his nails," Draco boasted proudly.

"Harry, what do you think," Granger questioned, already trying to steer the conversation.

The guests all turned their attention to their Golden Boy whose gaze had remained steadily on Snape the entire time. Potter was acting as if he'd forgotten that he was in a room full of other people. To be honest, Snape didn't even think that Potter had heard his friend's question. It was a bit unnerving.

"You're wearing my outfit," Potter stated, blinking stupidly.

Snape frowned. That's all Potter had to say? "Well, it's not exactly your outfit, is it? You probably picked this up from H&N," he snapped bitterly.

Granger stepped in once again. "Actually, Harry made the clothes all by himself. He designed it, bought the fabric, and sewed it all on his own. He's been working on it since the end of junior year," she explained, looking eagerly over at Potter. "Right, Harry?"

"It fits."

Snape's frown deepened, and Granger tried to jump in and clear things up. "What he means is that he was estimating all your measurements during class, so it's nice for him to see that it isn't too tight or too loose," she clarified.

"You didn't choose your old outfit," Potter said.

Snape looked down at Potter's outfit, noting the tan cardigan, burgundy and tan t-shirt, and fitting dark jeans. "No, I didn't," Snape answered stiffly. "But I'm starting to think I made a terrible mistake."

Thankfully, something Snape had said snapped Potter back into reality. "No, I think you made the perfect choice," he said firmly. "Any man would be crazy not to want to shag you."

Yep. Only Potter could make every man feel uncomfortably awkward in two seconds. It was one of his unique specialties. I mean, what was Snape supposed to say to that?

Draco, who had been blocked by Flitwick, elbowed his way to the front and was shortly followed by a skipping Luna.

"Merlin, Potter, you're going to mess this up," Draco complained, scowling at his archenemy.

Luna was more sympathetic. "Don't worry, Barry Bunny. We can help you," she reassured her friend.

"This is so simple. Potter, how do you feel about Professor Snape," Draco asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

The young man looked down at his brown shoes so that Snape couldn't read his expression.. "I'm in love with him," he confessed after a moment, lifting his head to lock eyes with Snape.

Luna smiled while Minerva and Dumbledore shared a knowing look. "And Beverus Bunny, how do you feel about Barry Bunny," Lovegood questioned cheerfully.

Snape stared back into those endless, green orbs that told him everything he needed to know. "I chose option two for a reason," he replied simply, fully aware that only Harry would truly understand.

Draco rolled his eyes at the coded response. "It will probably take him five years to say the L-word. We shouldn't try to push it out of him now. He might combust," he warned on his way back to his table. "And it looks like we're already going to have enough cleanups as it is."

Confused, Snape surveyed the room until he spotted the two "cleanups" Draco was referring to. The first would probably be the remains of Sirius Black whose face was the shade of a stick of TNT. Snape really hoped that Harry would make him attend the man's funeral.

"H-Harry," the man stammered. "Be reasonable! This is Snape we're talking about. You know, your friends told me about everything, and I wasn't going to say anything before. I experimented myself when I was your age, but you need to control yourself! Cocaine makes you do some crazy things as seen by tonight. But Remus and I know a wonderful doctor that can help you out."

"I'm not on drugs, for Merlin's sake," Harry yelled. "Why won't anyone believe me? It's just some lie that Severus made up."

"_Severus_," Sirius repeated in confusion. "Since when did you sta–"

Cleanup Aisle 2 couldn't stay quiet a second longer. "Harry! You can't say those kinds of things while we're filming. You were supposed to save that for later," she scolded harshly, hanfs on hip and scowl in place.

"What could I do? Malfoy asked me a question, and I answered it," he reasoned. A few others mumbled their agreement.

"You're relationship with Professor Snape should have stayed professional, Harry. You were the host and designer, and he was your client. Now what is TLC going to say," she asked, growing more and more hysterical.

Harry turned to Snape with a devilish grin on his face that made Snape's heart still. "Well, I think we should be more worried about what they're going to say about _this_."

That night, Creevey stood watch over a metal trash bin as a roll of film slowly burned, deemed too mature for the average viewer.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you guys for reading my first fan fiction story! I hope you enjoyed the ending! Just as a head's up, I'm planning on writing a tiny epilogue and posting it in a week or so. Leave a review and tell me what you think! For those of you readers who have stuck with me ever since the beginning, I want you to know how much I really appreciated your support! =)

Wishing you an awesome weekend,

Marginal Benefits


	7. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE:**

"I can't bloody believe this," Harry whined, narrowing his eyes at the television screen in a feeble glare.

Severus didn't even look up as he continued to flip through his newspaper. He was sitting comfortably in a new army green couch that he'd just bought from IKEA last week. It set him back a bit, but every penny was well worth it, especially for times like these when was reading one of the best newspaper articles ever published. Besides, what else would he use his meager retirement money on?

"Stop acting surprised, Harry. You've known for the past two weeks now this was going to happen," he said, not the least bit sympathetic towards the boy sitting in a stylish, black armchair.

Harry shook his head. "But I still don't understand. Why _Malfoy _of all people," he asked in a mix of seventy percent curiosity and thirty percent jealousy.

Severus rolled his eyes at the ridiculous question. Harry had been quite emotional when TLC had called three months ago to say that they were letting him go. Apparently, TLC didn't approve of their TV show hosts making out with the guests, and Harry had broken several rules in his contract by doing so. Normally, Severus would have laughed at the irony, but he was getting punished for the Contract Calamity as well.

You would expect that a newly retired professor would be having the time of his life as he enjoyed time away from all those sniveling dunces. Unfortunately, this was not the case for Severus Snape. He spent his first day of freedom clearing out his retched office and signing the final papers with Dumbledore. Then, Harry had called him about getting fired. Being the kind boyfriend that he was, Severus made a quick stop at the grocery store before shoving a gallon of Ben & Jerry's in Harry's hand. Right after Harry started ranting about the unfairness of it all, Severus retreated back to a cozy cottage he'd inherited from his parents years ago. During his time at Hogwarts, the cottage was too far away for him to make the commute, so he ended up being a live-in faculty member on campus. Once he was free from Hogwarts' claws, he thought that he could spend the rest of his days dozing in his bed or flipping through chemistry journals. What he didn't realize was that he still had one tie to Hogwarts.

Harry renting an apartment five miles away from that horrid university plus a boyfriend who lives almost two hours away minus a car plus an unlimited texting plan equals one annoyed Severus Snape. In the end, Severus gave in and decided to spend half his week back home and half his week at Harry's place. The arrangement had been pleasant for a while, and at the very least, Severus got a new couch out of it all. He was fairly confident that things would have continued on fairly well, but of course TLC had to call and ruin everything.

"Perhaps they finally realized that brunettes aren't always smarter than blondes," he guessed, half-jokingly.

Harry snorted and then started to smile a bit. "Well, I guess I should be happy for him. He can finally prove to Lucius that he was born to work with hair and fashion," he reasoned, remembering what Luna told him about what happened to Draco the day of their graduation. He couldn't really hate Draco anymore after hearing about how his life at home.

Severus, for his part, was proud to hear that Harry was being mature for once and attributed the change to his own doing. "You're probably just jealous because Draco actually has something to do unlike some _other_ people here," he said, shaking out the page of the newspaper for emphasis.

Harry's grin broadened, and Severus could tell that Harry was proud of Severus's improvements as well. "Yes, well, you can't expect everyone to be featured in the _New York Times_ for creating a new vaccine, can you?"

Severus raised an eyebrow in a show of amusement. As he'd recently learned, Harry could barely put together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Asking him to create a vaccine would be an inevitable failure and a threat to society.

"If it's any consolation, you won't be the only lazy slacker for too long. My manuscript is almost finished, and then I won't have anything to do until they finish looking it over," he explained.

At the moment, Severus was a busy man. He was doing research for new chemical discoveries as well as trying to publish his first ever chemistry textbook. His colleagues had laughed at the former Hogwarts professor for doing something that was still professor worthy, but Severus had his reasons. As much as he despised the institution, Severus couldn't very well leave the hapless Hogwarts chemistry students in Slughorn's hands with a clean conscience. To resolve the problem, Severus was writing a book for them to use so that they had the chance of graduating with a proper science education. Harry, on the other hand, had been spending his days doing whatever he was in the mood for.

"Actually, I wouldn't be too sure about that," Harry corrected, his eyes adopting a naughty gleam. "I wanted to surprise you with some really good news."

Severus closed his eyes, already feeling a strong migraine coming on. "I thought we had already gone over this. I. Don't. Like. Surprises."

"But this is a good one! When TLC fired me from 'What Not To Wear,' they told me that they had recommended me to Bravo to be a contestant on 'Project Runway.' They are doing a special season just for men's clothing, and some people from TLC thought I would be interested in it. Just a week ago, Bravo called and told me that I had been accepted. Isn't that bloody fantastic?"

Harry was bopping around like a child with a sugar high, a total 180 from his earlier mood. Sadly, Severus just couldn't muster the same level of enthusiasm. Even though he often complained about Harry's unemployment, he secretly enjoyed all of the extra time that they could spend together. And now Harry was going to leave him.

"That's great," he mumbled half-heartedly, not even trying to mask his displeasure.

His boyfriend was too psyched to notice, and Severus silently wondered how Harry had kept whatever it was a secret for so long. "That's not even the best part, Severus!"

"Really?"

Though it might seem surprising, Severus had actually seen bits and pieces of "Project Runway" before. It was a competition with young designers from all over the country who completed weekly challenges in hopes of making it to the next round. The contest lasted forever, and if Severus remembered correctly, it would involve Harry rooming with another young male designer. He frowned.

"I talked to the director and convinced him to hire you as my model!"

Completely caught off guard, Severus accidentally dropped the newspaper, allowing Harry to get a good look at his expression of utter shock. "I beg your pardon."

Foolishly, Harry misinterpreted his confusion for excitement. "Hard to believe, isn't it? You're the newest contestant on 'Models of the Runway!'"

Oh, no. Severus was not going through that again. "I'm not doing it," he refused adamantly.

Expecting his boyfriend to be more joyful, Harry let his smile drop to a slight frown. "Actually, I kind of assumed that you would be interested, so I already signed the contract."

Severus blinked and then blinked again.

Without saying a single word, Severus left the living room and entered his makeshift chemistry lab, making sure to slam the door. He carefully surveyed the test tubes and decanters sitting in neat lines on the bookshelf, trailing his fingers along a few of the vials. Now, Severus Snape was not an expert assassin by any means, but he was pretty confident that he could find _some _way to kill Harry Potter without being tried for murder. And with a grunt of triumph, he lifted up a mysterious bottle filled with a bright red liquid.

"Horns of Death," he read with a grin that no man should EVER wear.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Poor Harry better should be very, very worried…

Just kidding, Snape is just having one of his I-want-to-kill-Potter moods. He'll get over it.

I sincerely want to thank all of the readers who have taken the time to read this silly, little story. I really hope you enjoyed it! Leave me a review to tell me if my first fanfiction story was god-awful or semi decent/tolerable. Maybe (if I hear good things) I'll write something else in the future.

Also, a special thanks goes out to **werekat**_**, **_**evilqueen06**, and** Rori Potter** for the chapter six reviews. =)

I hope everyone has an awesome weekend!

Love,

Marginal Benefits 3


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